


The Sleepover

by Lady_Blackwater



Series: BROTHER (The Life and Times of Steve, Bucky, and  Mischka) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bonding, Domestic Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Parent Bucky Barnes, Parent Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackwater/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing bonds family together like getting the flu in the middle of math class and needing your Daddy's boyfriend to take you home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pandaruler1897](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandaruler1897/gifts).



> Of course, this was a requested prompt. I have no other reason to write but for you pumpkin heads. Please follow me on [ for more Stucky shenanigans.](http://karenthesuitlady.tumblr.com/)

It was in the middle of Steve's division's monthly productivity meeting that Kate bustled into the conference room with her palm covering the company phone's and a worried look on her face. It throws Steve off mid-sentence that she's approaching him head on, paying no attention to the perplexed expressions of the meeting members.

_Something's wrong._

"Kate?" he starts as a greeting, but she nods to a corner of the room as if to say we need to talk privately before pulling him to the side and whispering "Natalia's school is on the phone. She's must've eaten something bad at lunch because in the middle of math class, she vomited and the nurse says its best she be taken home."

Immediately, Steve is ready to halt the meeting all together to drive down to the school but before doing so, he thinks for a second. "The school couldn't get a hold of Bucky?"

"They said they called multiple times and couldn't get a hold of him," she explains then gestures to Steve. "You were on file as her second emergency contact."

Steve forgotten Bucky'd put him down as an emergency contact. He must be at practice if he's not answering his cell phone in the middle of the day. Letting that minor detail go without a second thought, Steve nods and cast a thoughtful glance at his staff before looking back to Kate with his brilliant idea.

"Do you think you could carry out the remainder of the meeting?" He asks with such a vigorously encouraging tone that the passing look of anxiousness on Kate's face turns to a sheepish grin.

"Steve, I-"

"No, c'mon, Kate." He denies the doubts before she can speak them into existence. "You know these numbers and business plans better than anybody else. We've gone over this a million times, and majority of the ideas are yours anyway. This is all _you_."

"You're just saying that."

"I wish I were, but it's true," Steve tells her honestly with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I really need your help here, Kate. _I need you_ to carry out this meeting for me. _My kid needs me_."

Kate inhales for a second and assess the awaiting meeting members murmuring to one another as they wait for the meeting to continue. With a cock of her eyebrow, she hands the phone over to Steve and gives him a light push to the exit.

"Get outta here, Steve. I'll brief you tomorrow morning." She tells him, confidentially taking Steve's place at the front of the room, shooting him a wink as he he mouths a grateful thanks to her. During his exit, he doesn't miss how easily she commands the room with her presence, grabbing everyone's attention when she explains that she'll be taking over the meeting.

The staff watches with nonchalant acceptance when Kate glances down at the notes Steve had left and then the productivity board. She swallows calmly and smiles dazzlingly. "So, anyway..."

* * *

In the approximated twenty minutes it took Steve to arrive at the school, he'd sent Bucky a text telling him that he's getting Mischka to take her back to his apartment for the remainder of the day. Moments after he'd sent that text, Bucky called and asked what was happening and Steve did his very best to not panic about telling him that his child's fallen ill. Steve, being the anxious wreck he is about anything involving Mischka, saw this as the end of the world while Bucky calmed him down repeatedly, and told him he'd be home soon since band practice is almost over.

The administrators working the main desk confirmed Steve's ID and validity as an emergency contact before calling over the intercom for a Natalia Barnes to be escorted to the office for early dismissal. Steve takes careful notice of how the receptionists and administrators bustling around the office hadn't taken their eyes off of him even as they flood the room with work. He hears muttering about how he looks nothing like Mischka which he faithfully ignores since he's more than used to hearing it whenever he tells someone that she is his daughter.

He involuntarily drowns out the chatter and gossip when the office door swings open and the first thing he sees is a mess of Mischka's curls plastered on Pietro Maximoff's chest as he carries her towards him. He can definitely already tell she's ill because there's no way in hell Mischka would let her hair look like that if she weren't.

The softest part of Steve's heart aches when he meets Pietro halfway and gets his first look at his daughter's puffy and pink cheeks, and hooded swelling red eyes squinting as she struggles to adjust to the bright lights of the office.

"Oh, Mischka," he hums sympathetically and puts a lock of hair behind her ear.

" _Stevie_ ," she moans miserably and shifts in Pietro's sturdy arms to reach Steve.

"I'm here, doll," he promises in a hushed tone and puts his arms out to take her.

Carefully, Pietro passes the child over to him and as much as he'd been trying to avoid looking the young man in his eyes, they make eye contact in the midst of the exchange. Mischka clings to him like a monkey on a tree and settles her head into the space on Steve's neck usually reserved for Bucky. When her forehead makes contact with his jaw, her skin is practically burning.

Despite the disappoint to see Steve instead of Bucky - the supposed love of his life - Pietro's eyes are bright and expressive with an his aura that of a deer's, gentle and innocent. Pietro looks sadder than Steve has ever seen a person which could mostly be attributed to Bucky's absence as well as Mischka being sick. Steve never thought about what he'd do should he ever see Pietro again. He didn't know if he'd get angry and hit the kid or pretend he didn't know anything, but in this moment as he stares at the nineteen year old with silver hair and adoration in his eyes as he watches over Mischka, all his feels is pity.

"Her math teacher sent her to nurse after lunch, but she came to the dance studio instead," Pietro begins to explain, hands deep in his pocket since he has nothing to hold now, stance awkward and distant like he's afraid of Steve. "Wanda told me to take her to the nurse and that's when she said she got hot and threw up."

Mischka groans in embarrassment but Pietro just pats her back soothingly with a chuckle. "We think she might caught a stomach bug."

"Oh," Steve says with a nod since he's at a total loss for words. He's confused yet happy that he can look at the young man who slept with his boyfriend and be perfectly okay. All he can feel is sorry for the kid; he's just another fool who's fallen in love with Bucky Barnes, and he can't blame him for that.

"Yeah, she's a trooper, though," Pietro adds with tense gestures. "If you ask me, she's probably more upset about having to miss practice rather than throwing up in front of everyone."

" _Pietrooooo_ ," she whines, hiding her face deeper into Steve's neck and this time, Steve laughs a little at her protest and rubs her back.

Pietro's grin is small and fragile, too precious for Steve not to ask him if he could walk them to Steve's truck. He doesn't recall the words leaving his mouth and the request comes to a surprise to both men. Pietro's eyeing him like its a trap but follows anyway when Steve shoots his a grin of his own and exits the school.

"I appreciate you looking after her 'til I got here," Steve's thanking him as he buckles her seat belt in the backseat. She's using her backpack as a pillow as she begins to doze off.

"Oh, it's nothing," Pietro answers with a shrug, glancing around until his eyes land on Steve's face. "As teachers, we're not supposed to have favorites, but your girl is an absolute gem."

After ten seconds of hard eye contact, he looks down and frowns.

Steve frowns as well, closes the door before leaning on it, and sighs aloud. He wants to mention that he knows everything, but the guy's already down and that'd ruin whatever is left of the day. Instead, he settles for subtle since that's what he's best at and exhales loudly enough to get Pietro's attention.

"I know James didn't tell you, but you've got this look on your face that says you wanna ask," he starts, and Pietro all but jumps out of his skin at the mention of Bucky. "So, go ahead and ask."

Relieved yet caught off guard that Steve brought it up first, Pietro nods and avoids eye contact again.

"I think I already have my answer, Mr. Rogers," he says with a self deprecating scowl that immediately brightens into a tired smile. "Words cannot express how sorry I am. If I'd known-"

"It's not your fault, Pietro."

"Yeah, but I still feel like a dick."

"Don't. It's in the past now, and what's important is that we learn to move on." It's the first time Steve can say he took his own advice. "James has expressed to me about how sorry he is about what went down between you two."

"It's nice to know why it went down the way it did. I kept thinking it was my fault, but -" he gestures an open hand to Steve. "I now see that it's not."

Truth be told, Pietro is a good kid. Aside from everything, Steve liked him and being in his presence now explains as to why in the hell Bucky did what he did. It's not justified, but highly understandable. Steve would eat this kid right up.

"I'm not asking you to get over him, but I will advise that moving on is best."

"I'm trying. No disrespect to you, but it will take time, Mr. Rogers."

The genuine manner in which Pietro grins at Steve makes it impossible for him to hate him.

"I know, kid," he agrees. "I know."

* * *

Being as though he used to be a perpetually sick kid with an immunity system built like a piece of tissue paper, the flu was nothing Steve couldn't handle. Sarah Rogers would be proud if she could see her son now, taking all he learned from the millions of times he'd caught the flu and applying them to a little one of his own.

The second he carried Mischka through the threshold of his apartment, she was happy and relieved to be in a comfortable environment and begged to go back to sleep.

"Don't worry, Mischka," he says. "Stevie's gotcha."

"Where's Daddy?"

 _That's a good question._ "Daddy's probably still at band practice, okay? I'll call him."

"Can I talk to him when you do?" She asks politely as Steve sets her body onto her second room's mattress.

"Of course, you can. Right now we need to take your temperature, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees sadly, turning to lay on her side. Aside from the puffiness on her face due to her coming down with the flu, she's resembling a burnt marshmallow the way she's pouting and huffing at her predicament. Steve tries not to laugh as he goes to his bathroom to retrieve his first-aid kit - he used to have it to store his medicine but ended up using it for first aid essentials like band-aids, gauze, and alcohol wipes. He's not a certified nurse, but having a parent who was along with having a son who stayed in the hospital taught him everything he needed to know.

When he arrives back to the guest room with the thermometer sterilized and ready to go, he gasps at the sight of Carter's head comfortably placed right on Mischka's flat stomach and the child petting the animal like second nature.

"Y'know dogs can usually tell when you're sick when humans can't?" Mischka informs him hoarsely. Carter's eyes flicks back and forth between both humans before contently fluttering closed for the beginnings of a nap.

"Sam might've said something like that to me when he first gave her to me," he remembers, kneeling next to the bed. "I guess it was one of those cases where he thought I was sick and thought a dog would cure me."

"Did she work?"

"I think she did," Steve replies, resisting to scratch behind Carter's ear since he'd just washed his hands to take Mischka's temperature. "Ready?"

Mischka's temperature came to be three degrees above average which wasn't extreme, but it still baffled Steve. Although unsure how she managed to get so ill in the short time from leaving the house at eight to lunch eleven, he remained calm the entire time he made her drink orange juice, fed her soup and crackers to settle her stomach ache, and gave her kid's flu medicine.

While she slept, Bucky called to tell Steve that a multiple car collision accident in Manhattan had traffic backed up in the worst way, and it'll take him longer to get home. Steve suggested he take the subway, but by the time he'd said it, Bucky and Dum Dum were stuck in a sea of honking frustrated drivers unwilling to budge or move.

Steve enjoys having Mischka stay the night at his apartment without Bucky when situations like this arise - the special quality time they spend makes him happier than most anything. Before hanging up the phone, he tells Bucky to get home safely.

After a two hour long nap, she awoke with her temperature only slightly above average at only ninety-nine degrees. Her face still appeared bloated and splotches of red were still present. She probably had a minor allergic reaction to whatever she'd eaten at lunch.

"How are you feeling?" He asks her upon awaking as she stretches her limbs out and mewls like a cat.

"A little better."

"Yeah?"

She nods and sits upward. "Where's Daddy?"

Steve sighs. "Daddy's stuck in some traffic, and he probably won't be home until later on tonight."

Surprisingly, the child doesn't seem as upset about that as Steve thought she'd be. Instead of moping about it, she turns the negative into a positive by saying "So, the two of us can have a sleepover?"

"Looks that's way."

"What did you do at sleepovers when you were little?"

That's such a _good_ question, yet he has such a _sad_ answer. "Well, I wasn't really popular in school when it was age appropriate for me to go to sleepovers."

"You've never been to one?"

"Well, I spent the night at Sam's house from time to time but that hardly counts as a sleepover."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "What did you and Sam do at your sleepovers?"

Steve bites on his bottom lip as best he can to keep from snickering. There's _some_ activities he and Sam involved themselves in at their sleepovers that he'd rather _not_ disclose to his six year old daughter.

"We'd dance," he says off the top of his head and that gets a smile forming on Mischka's face.

"Were you guys good?"

"Sam's a better dancer than me, by far," he admits with a smirk. "I've still got two left feet."

"Ms. Wanda taught us a line dance in class last week she made up from when she was a teenager."

"Really?"

"Yup," she pops the 'P' sound and un-buries her tiny body from under the covers to stand on the mattress, meeting him at eye-level. "Can I teach it to you?!"

"Are you feeling up to it?" He asks wearily, remembering that Sarah had always said rest is best for the flu. Mischka looks far too enthusiastic to get out of bed and do something constructive for Steve to deny a quick dance lesson.

Mischka leads Steve into the living room and instructs him to move the coffee table and other furniture to make room. While he does so, he and Carter share an inquisitive look when Miscka uses his phone to pull up an energetic pop song to play over the speakers.

"Okay, I'll show you first then I'll teach you!" she tells him just when the lyrics kick in and she begins the simple step and arm movements. Even on a sick day she's more coordinated than he'll ever be.

The dance itself isn't complicated or as involved as he'd thought it be. It starts with a one-two step followed by a twirl or two, a dip in the hips, a dip in the shoulders, another one-two step, a pose, then starts over again. Steve hadn't done a line dance since The Electric Slide or The Hustle were popular in his younger days and even then he had trouble keeping up.

"You ready for me to teach you?"

Hesitant but excited, Steve nods and lets himself be taken to the middle of the living room. "Oh, _jeez_..."

"It's easy, okay? Just watch."

Just like before, she carries out the one-two step, the two twirls, a dip in the hips, a dip in the shoulders, another one-two step, and the pose with poise in careless rhythm to the song. The third time around that she does the dance, he joins in halfway on the dip in his hips and there's an exhilarating rush in finishing the steps with her.

"See, you're getting it!" She cheers for him, never missing a beat.

"I'm doing my best."

"Again!"

Steve repeats the steps like a mantra under his breath. "One-two step, twirl, dip in the hips, dip in the shoulders, one-two step, and pose...One-two step, twirl, dip in the hips, dip in the shoulders, one-two step, and pose..."

Steve recognizes the song as the one he remembers from a colorful Diet Coke commercial from when he was younger. This particular song used to play a lot in the clubs and dance halls Sam would drag him to. He hadn't heard it in years yet still remembers the lyrics and sings along when he gets confident enough in his dancing to do so.

Carter's wagging her tail so hard her whole body is shaking. She's panting excitedly in a crouched position in great anticipation for the night's developments after watching Steve and Mischka groove in sync.

"So, what else is on the agenda for our sleepover?" Steve asks afterward, lowering the volume to the stereo then putting the furniture back in their respective places in the living room. "You hungry? Wanna watch some television? Draw? We haven't drawn in a while."

"Well, I taught you how to do the dance, so maybe you can teach me how to draw like you?"

"That sounds like an amazing idea," Steve agrees and takes her hand so they can walk into his business area together.

He digs up some old sketchbooks from his college days in the deepest depths of his desk for her to use, impressed by the vast improvement of his drawing style and technique from then to now. What he doesn't expect in the middle of sketching out a unicorn is for Mischka to suddenly stop flipping through one of the sketchbooks in search for a clean sheet to stare down at a half finished drawing of Peggy fast asleep in the raggedy bed from his first apartment off campus. It's not as terrible as he'd remembered it, but it certainly gets both their eyes widening.

"This is Aunt Peggy," she announces upon recognizing her. The child glances up at Steve suspiciously. "Why were you drawing Aunt Peggy?"

 _Oh, boy._ "You remember that time I was telling you about how I was engaged to a lady but never married her because it didn't feel right?"

"Uh-huh..." she hums expectantly.

"Well, that lady was your Aunt Peggy. We used to be boyfriend and girlfriend before I met Daddy."

She takes all that in with a grain of salt before nodding in understanding. "You would've been my uncle, Stevie? Why didn't it feel right? Why didn't you and Aunt Peggy get married?"

 _Ask her yourself. She'll gladly tell you._ "Well, I feel like us not getting married was the universe's way of letting us know that I was meant to be with your Daddy while Aunt Peggy is meant for Gabe. Maybe that's why it didn't feel right."

She thinks about it for a slight moment before nodding again in agreement this time and grinning at the photo. "I think you made the right decision. I can't picture you and Aunt Peggy together. You and Daddy make a better couple, and I wouldn't want to call you Uncle Stevie."

"You think so?"

"Definitely! You're so much like Daddy that it'd be weird. I like having you as a dad, Stevie."

"Yeah?" He says warmly and with a smile gracing his face, he nods and bites his lip. "That's good, kid. I like having you as a daughter."

Hours had passed, drawings had been drawn and hung on the fridge, medicine had been taken, and more dances had been learned before Mischka grew hungry again. Steve made her the best macaronis and cheese recipe he could find online and she had two helpings before she felt slightly sick again and wanted to lay down. In the midst of laying in Steve's bed with half her body on his chest, she finds herself smiling at the idea of this - well, them.

In the privacy of their own apartment, Mischka and Bucky had fantasies of the future, both involving Bucky and Steve getting married. For Mischka, the idea of Steve and Daddy getting married and moving the family to a bigger house in suburban New Jersey made her giddy, and it excited Daddy when she'd told him about it up until the New Jersey bit. Daddy wanted to stay in Brooklyn since this is his second home, Indiana being the first.

From there, she wanted them to have children; What she wanted most out of anything was to have a baby brother or sister to teach ballet. She especially wants to teach her younger sibling how to sing, and even if Steve's the baby's father, he or she will still know how to sing since everyone in the Barnes family tree can.

She always wanted to know where babies came from. She understands the gist of where a male "gives" the female a baby and it grows in her belly for nine months - she knows enough to know it's only possible between a man and a woman which puts her on edge. Technically, Bucky and Steve can't have a child that's biologically both of theirs. If by some trick chance it'd happened where they could, she probably thinks Bucky would carry the baby.

The closest thing she'll get to a sibling will be Becca and Wade's baby due later in the year. It only upsets her in the most minimal way that a brother or sister won't come about until she reaches her double digits.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I am," she says between a yawn, cheek smudging against Steve's pectoral. "Are you enjoying our sleepover?"

"'M having all the fun in the world, doll," he tells her sleepily before yawning as well and settling his head on the pillow next to him. "You?"

"Yeah, this is pretty amazing..."

Neither recall falling asleep.

* * *

At about midnight, Steve stirs awake to the supple press of lips to his own then to his cheek. He assumes he's dreaming and sighs out Bucky's name blissfully, instinctively pulling the mass hovering above him down towards him. Bucky lands on Steve's opposite pectoral right in front of his daughter's resting face and doesn't even try to move.

The three of them officially awake at eight the next morning, and instead of going to school, Mischka takes a second day off to be sure. It was around six that morning where she sneaks out of Steve's bedroom to her own to give her daddies some privacy since it'a been a long day and they only saw each other once.

"Thanks for taking care of her last night," Bucky whispers in Steve's ear when he comes up behind him for a hug while he stirs eggs in the frying pan. "I really appreciate you being there."

"You know I've always got you guys. It's no big deal."

"Was Nick mad you had to leave work early?" Bucky asks tentatively, his tone hopeful for the answer he wants.

Steve shrugs as he sprinkles pepper on the half done eggs. "He was the last thing on my mind yesterday. He might be, but I don't really care."

" _Hmph_ ," Bucky scoffs to himself and rests his head on Steve's shoulder. "And the fact that you didn't go in today either might put you in a tight situation."

At the mention of tight situations, Steve wonders if he should mention seeing Pietro. He shakes his head on it as if to clear it from his train of thought and agrees with Bucky. "A tight situation indeed."

Little did Steve know that yesterday _wouldn't_ have been the last time he ran into Pietro.


End file.
